¡Poliamor Fiesta Crack!

This is a tale of insecurity,
How many inches let me see!
It's your need to control you need to be
cruel in a world that's centered around your tool.
Shave me up,
shape me up dress me all pretty,
like a little child as you try to disarm me.
Fear my body? Fear my womb?
No brute force can match the strength of the moon.
Why do you look so nervous?
I'm sick of the nudges,
I'm sick of the stares, am I always expected to do as they dare?
Boys will be boys and if they break their toys,
no one will blame them, they'll do as they enjoy.
It's not set in stone how to just be a man, I'm no slave to the rhythm
I know where I stand.
No one is my conquest.
Even if I lose face I'll fall
through my life with compassion and grace.
I know why you look so nervous,
I know what makes you tick.
10, 000 years of patriarchys
subjugating tricks.

Put me down, push me down
Try to control an untamable Kunta
that you'll never own.
It orbits all about your fear of castration.
We'll never submit to your dick domination!
This the burden of our civilization
agriculture, greed, surplus over
consumption inequality stems from a change in
our food source with a disadvantage of competing
while pregnant.
(Chorus 3x) Ahhahho it's always assumed that I
don't know what to do, that I don't know what to do.
(End)